Royally Screwed - Lynn Van Dorn Page 0,25

his shoulder. “Especially when what?”

Yuri flinched and jerked away. “When it’s my fault. Are you happy now? This is all my fault. I should have never allowed you to be involved, but I was… not myself, and not thinking clearly. I haven’t been thinking clearly for a long time, and I like to blame that on you, but I’m at fault there, too.” He turned back to Angelo with a crooked, self-mocking smile on his face. “I knew better and I still let myself… rely on you.”

Angelo wrapped his hands around Yuri’s upper arms. “You should be able to rely on me. You’re like…” He floundered, trying to come up with one word that encapsulated everything he felt about Yuri, and had for his entire life. “Like a brother,” he ended up saying, and although that wasn’t right, it was the closest he felt he could come.

“I have two brothers,” Yuri said, pulling away. “I don’t need another.”

“But—”

A knock sounded on the door. “Your highnesses. It’s time to go down to see your parents.” It was Philippe.

Angelo opened the door and gestured for Yuri to leave first. “Let’s go,” he said, “and get this over with.”

King Claudius and Queen Eleanor sat in matching armchairs that flanked the cold fireplace. Seated across from them on the sofa opposite were Angelo’s parents, King Aryan and Queen Gabriella. All four wore identical looks of worry and concern, as did Yuri’s eldest brother, Alex, seated in a chair just to the side of his father. The only one in the room who didn’t look foreboding was Archie, the royal spare, who was seated next to Queen Eleanor. He had two cats on his lap and a mischievous smile on his face.

Without preamble, King Claudius spoke. “We would all like an explanation, boys.” He steepled his fingers on his chest. “So let’s hear it.”

“Yes, indeed,” Angelo’s father said. “I would very much like to hear why the tabloids are reporting about my son fighting with English aristocracy then kissing a boy.”

Angelo groaned. “Father, it can hardly come as a surprise that Yuri’s my betrothed. I believe I’ve seen your signature on that ridiculous document.”

“Don’t take that tone with your father,” his mother snapped. “We have a right to know what is going on with our sons. You two are a diplomatic match. You know that. Going about as you have defeats the entire intended purpose of the betrothal.”

“We just wish to understand what’s going on, boys,” said Queen Eleanor. She smiled at them a little sadly. “We can’t begin to know how to fix things until we know all the facts.”

“And we need to present a unified front or the tabloids will steal the narrative entirely.”

“It was my fault,” Yuri blurted. Angelo instinctively reached for Yuri’s hand and he latched on to it, squeezing tightly. “Angelo was only trying to help.”

“The aristocracy in this instance was a—” Angelo started to say manky knob then stopped himself. “Not a good person. He took advantage of Yuri and hurt him. That… person… refused to leave Yuri alone. I offered to speed up the time frame on our engagement in order to chase Lord…”

“Blackheath,” Yuri hissed.

“Yes. Lord Blackheath away. I didn’t mean to start a fight. That was actually begun by Blackheath himself. And the kiss was…”

“Yes?” Six pairs of eyes bore into him, waiting for an answer.

Into the silence, Archie suggested, “Gross?” and made gagging noises. One of the cats leapt from his lap in surprise at his antics. The other, an ancient Persian, slept on.

“That’s quite enough, Archimedes,” Queen Eleanor admonished her youngest son.

“Yes. What exactly was that kiss?” Yuri asked. His eyes also bore into Angelo.

Angelo’s mind went blank. At the time it had seemed the only thing to do. He’d wanted Yuri’s mouth with an intensity he hadn’t understood at the time. Kissing him was the only course of action that had made sense. Now, though, he had no good way to rationally explain his actions. In the end, he shrugged and told more or less the truth. “I wanted Blackheath to know he had no reason to keep sniffing around Yuri.”

“You’ve never behaved like this with any of the prince’s other relationships,” his mother pointed out. “Why now?”

Yuri sighed. “Francis—Blackheath—was… he…”

Angelo gave Yuri’s fingers a brief squeeze. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“No, I do.” Yuri’s mouth firmed and his shoulders squared. He took a deep breath then said, “Blackheath hurt me. Physically. I didn’t report him because I was trying